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The ride in the back of the Speedy Beaver bus had been long and unbearable. Folks of all walks of life sat within, waiting to be dropped off at destinations only they knew. Two of the youngest passengers were siblings, one boy and one girl. His name was Mason, though everyone who knew him called him Dipper, and her name was Mabel. It had only been just a few days ago when their parents received a phone call from a man named Soos, requesting Dipper and Mabel’s presence back in Gravity Falls for another fun summer vacation.
Their parents had little time to respond when Dipper and Mabel scrambled back to their shared bedroom to pack for the extended staycation and bumbled out the door, their goodbyes frantic but sincere.
The Speedy Beaver turned down a familiar long dirt road surrounded by dense Oregon greenery. The sign posted on the side of the road read Welcome to the Mystery Shack!, worn down by the elements and barely legible.
Mabel chewed on her bottom lip and rocked on her seat. “Look, Dipper, we’re almost there!”
Dipper looked up from the comic book he was reading. “I know you’re excited and all, but could you please keep your voice down?”
She ignored him as she started to ramble. “What do you think we’re gonna have for dinner tonight? I hope it’s spaghetti. Do you think Soos asked Melody to marry him yet? Do you think we’re gonna fight more monsters this summer?” She gasped. “What if you-know-who is back?”
Dipper sharply shushed her. Their pet pig, appropriately named Waddles, looked up from between their legs and oinked at them. He went back to reading. “Don’t jinx it, Mabel. He was such a pain in the neck to deal with. Talking about him might undo something. It’s best if we forget about—”
“Oh my god, there’s a trampoline!”
“What?”
They pressed themselves flat against their seat window. Barely obscured by the Mystery Shack was a rust-covered (and a bit diabolical-looking) trampoline. The bus rolled to a soft stop. “Last stop, the Mystery Shack,” the driver drawled out.
Gathering their luggage, Dipper and Mabel thanked the driver on their way out into the open, Waddles right at their heels. The bus began its trip backing down the long driveway and the door to the Mystery Shack opened.
Two burly, older men stepped out onto the porch, twins just like Dipper and Mabel. The bookish, reserved man’s name was Stanford, but preferred to be called Ford. The brutish man’s name was Stanley, but liked to keep it short and sweet with Stan.
“Took the bus long enough to drop you knuckleheads off,” Stan called out.
Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look and discarded their belongings to run for their family.
Stan stretched his arms out wide to embrace them. The grin on his face fell when they ran past the house.
“Hi, Grunkle Stan. Hi, Grunkle Ford,” they said, hightailing it for the trampoline.
“Boys go first!” Dipper said, pushing Mabel aside as he kicked his shoes off.
“Nuh-uh,” Mabel said, trying to pull him back by the shirt. “Girls always go first. Grunkle Stan!”
Stan’s arms flopped to his sides and he slouched forward. “I can’t believe they passed us up like that.”
Ford laughed into a fist. “I told you they would.”
A loud clap of thunder jostled Mabel from her dreams. Another boom sent Waddles running and squealing under her bed. It’s raining?, she thought. She laid in bed for a moment before it fully dawned on her, gasping and shooting up. “Dipper, it’s raining!”
Her brother’s bed was empty, neatly made for the day. She looked to the alarm clock he brought with him, taking note of just how early it was. It didn’t surprise her that Dipper was already up. He had a weird tendency to wake up at odd hours in the morning, unlike her.
Still, it wasn’t early early. Where could he have been?
The muffled sound of the fridge door slamming shut could be heard from downstairs. Dipper must’ve been making himself some breakfast. Mabel scrambled out of bed and slid into her slippers, padding down the attic stairs. One hand trailed along the wall and the other kept a firm grip on the handrails of the rest of the stairs, making her way to the kitchen. “Hey, Dipper, wanna go outside and jump on the—oof!”
Her words were silenced when she ran into one of her great-uncles.
“Mabel!” Ford squeaked out, coffee mug in hand. The steaming drink spilled over the rim and onto his skin.
She stepped back when he cursed under his breath, jumping when the mug hit the floor and shattered.
Ford waved his hand about, a grimace on his face.
“Are you okay, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asked.
Ford nodded. “Yes. Nothing a little cold water can’t fix.” When she took a step forward, he held a hand up to stop her. “Stay right there. I don’t want you burning or cutting yourself.”
“I can clean up so you can look at your hand.”
“I can handle it,” he said, retrieving a wet rag and dust pan.
Mabel frowned, playing with the hem of her nightgown’s sleeve. “I’m really sorry, Grunkle Ford. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ford glanced up at her and nodded, picking up the mug shards. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’m going to be just fine.” He paused. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I snapped at you.”
“It’s okay,” she said. The kitchen fell silent. She watched him soak up the coffee spill and rubbed one of her wrists. Ford wasn’t as much of a stranger to her now as he had been after stepping back into their dimension, but she couldn’t stop herself from still feeling awkward in his presence. What was there to talk about with someone she wasn’t as close to like she was with Grunkle Stan?
“Um…Grunkle Ford,” she began, “have you seen Dipper?”
He shrugged. “He went out into town with Stanley about fifteen minutes ago, talking about dinner plans. Never said what, though.” Ford stood and dumped the chunky shards into the trash and discarded the rag into the sink.
Mabel grabbed her elbows. Why am I so anxious?, she thought. She swallowed and took a breath to steel herself. “Grunkle Ford, can I go outside and jump on the trampoline?”
“In this weather?” he asked, taking another mug out to pour himself more coffee.
“Dipper and I have a friend back home and we always jump on her trampoline when it rains.”
Ford shook his head. “No.”
The inside of her throat was beginning to feel a little dry. She tentatively stepped up to him. “Please, Grunkle Ford?” She grabbed the back of his sweater to gently pull on it. “Please?”
“The answer is no, Mabel,” Ford said, looking back at her.
“Please?” she whined. “If you let me jump on the trampoline for just ten minutes, I won’t ask you again today. I won’t even ask tomorrow if we bring the time up to twenty minutes.”
He tried to hide a smile. “And skip breakfast?”
Mabel groaned, hitting the small of his back with her forehead. “But I’m not hungry…”
Ford reached back to curl an arm around her head, wrangling her to his side and ruffling her hair. “That’s my only condition. Well, wear a coat, too. Stanley will kill me if you caught a cold because I let you play outside without one on.”
Mabel cheered and tightly hugged his waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She went and retrieved a chair from the dining table, moving it in front of the kitchen counter. Climbing up, she stood on her toes to retrieve a box of cereal, followed by a bowl from nearby, and dropped down to the floor. Ford moved out of her way and sat at the table, the morning newspaper in hand.
Her body trembled with excitement as she sloppily made herself breakfast, imagining all the cool flips and tricks she would do. Not to mention the poses she would try to hold while in the air. Taking her breakfast, she went to go eat in the living room, leaving the open milk jug and cereal box on the counter.
“In the kitchen, Mabel,” Ford said.
“Boo,” Mabel said, backtracking to the table. She scowled and took a seat to eat her breakfast.
Ford smiled into his coffee mug and took a drink.
In a short moment of time, the pitter-patter of rain grew into what sounded like a torrential waterfall. From what Mabel could see from the kitchen window, it was raining cats and dogs outside. The sky was shrouded by eerie, dark gray clouds. Her legs kicked restlessly.
She looked at Ford.
He was still preoccupied with the newspaper.
Mabel looked down to her cereal.
Getting her butt outside and onto that trampoline was more important than anything else. Weather like this only came once in a lifetime!
She looked to the window, then to Ford, and back again. Mabel shot up from her chair, the spoon she had been holding clattering to the floor. “I’m done, Grunkle Ford!”
Ford folded the newspaper down to look at her cereal bowl, plenty of food still left over. “Young lady, you are not done eating. Get back in here and finish your breakfast. Mabel!”
“Love you, Grunkle Ford,” she said, peering into the kitchen. She slipped a coat on and rushed outside, pausing on the porch to watch and listen to the rain. The potholes in the driveway had long been flooded. Rainwater cascaded from the metal roof in torrents. Holding a hand under the falling water, she shivered in delight.
The water was the right temperature that she felt she didn’t need her coat.
She paused when she went to step off the porch, glancing down at her nightgown. Maybe I should’ve gotten dressed, she thought.
She shrugged and ran out into the rain. She would put it in the dryer after putting fresh clothes on when she was done playing.
Her slippers slapped against the sopping ground. She giggled as she climbed onto the trampoline, being mindful to avoid the rusty springs as she kicked the soiled footwear off.
A snort escaped her throat as she jumped, eager to get to greater heights. The water on the mat bounced up around her with each jump, slapping back down when she landed. The thunder booming above didn’t scare her one bit.
To her, it was noise she had to compete against. Mother Nature versus Mabel Pines. Who could be the most obnoxious?
She would’ve fared more of a chance if Dipper had been with her, but she’d try her best without him.
She was going to take home the gold and Mother Nature could cry about it.
A loud whistle pierced through the sounds of rainfall and Mabel flinched in response, landing on her back. “Aw man,” she said. “I almost mastered that trick.” She sat up to look in the whistle’s direction.
Ford stood near the side of the porch, a metal whistle in his mouth and an umbrella opened above his head. He looked up from his watch, the whistle falling to his chest. “It’s been half an hour, Mabel. I think it’s time for you to come inside.”
“Can I have ten more minutes?” she asked.
Ford walked up to the trampoline, waving his unoccupied hand to her. “No. I don’t want you getting sick. Get your slippers.”
Mabel crossed her arms. “No.”
“Don’t make me count to three.”
“Grunkle Stan would let me stay out here all day.”
Ford placed a hand on his hip. “Well, I’m not Stanley and I worry about your health. Get inside.”
Mabel stood. “What if we made a deal?”
“I’m not making any more deals for the remainder of my life. The answer is no.”
“Just hear me out!”
Ford sighed. “Let’s hear it, then.”
“If you join me and we jump for ten more minutes, I’ll go inside without a fuss,” she said.
He glanced at his watch. “Don’t you think that’s pushing it a little?”
“No.”
Ford tapped his foot irritably and groaned, closing the umbrella and leaning it against the Mystery Shack. “Fine, ten more minutes.”
Mabel cheered as he clambered onto the trampoline, uncertainty on his face. “This is gonna be awesome! We’re gonna make so much noise.” She pointed at his feet. “Gotta take the boots off. No shoes is the number one rule for trampoline jumping.”
“I know, I know,” he said. Reaching forward, he removed his boots and dropped them over the edge of the trampoline.
She grinned and jumped around him when he stood up. “Grunkle Ford, you should do a flip. Flips are awesome.”
He awkwardly began to jump. “Mabel, I’m almost seventy. If I did that, I’d probably break my neck.”
Mabel tutted. “No you wouldn’t. The mat would break your fall. It’s impossible to hurt yourself on one of these puppies.”
“I’d like to know where you got that information.”
Mabel and Ford had been outside much longer than the allotted ten minutes. Ford managed to loosen up as he jumped with his niece. Mabel showed him every trick and flip she knew by heart, being left a laughing mess after he had tried to do something cool.
The crack in his glasses spread and a small piece popped out of the frame.
From the corner of his eye, Ford noticed a flash of red pulling up to the Mystery Shack and slowed his jumping to a soft bounce.
Mabel hopped up beside him. “What’s up, Grunkle Ford?”
“Stanley and Dipper are back,” he said.
“Ooh, what do you think they bought?”
He shrugged.
Stan and Dipper climbed out of the car, slamming the front doors shut. Mabel cupped her hands around her mouth. “Dipstick, what’d you guys buy?”
Dipper retrieved an armful of plastic bags of groceries from the backseat, Stan gathering the rest. “Nothing for you, if that’s why you’re asking,” Dipper called.
“Boo,” she jeered.
“What’re you two dorks doing on the trampoline?” Stan asked.
“I’m being forced to jump against my will,” Ford said.
Mabel laughed and punched his arm. “Nuh-uh.”
“Get down from there and get your butts inside. I need help getting dinner ready.”
“It’s not even lunch yet, Stanley.”
“And? What’s your point?”
Mabel pouted and moved to the edge of the trampoline, climbing down to the ground. “Can we jump again later?”
Ford smiled. “What happened to our deal?”
“What deal? We didn’t shake on anything.” She hummed innocently and went to join her brother.
He chuckled and stepped forward, shouting out when the spring he mistakenly stepped on gave out from under his weight. A sharp pain radiated up his leg, the back of his calf burning and throbbing. Blood leaked onto the muddy ground.
“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel and Dipper shouted, rushing to his side. A bottle in one of the bags Dipper dropped shattered and Stan shouted in annoyance. Stan set the bags he was carrying down onto the porch and joined them at the trampoline.
Ford’s shouting ceased and Mabel and Dipper struggled to help him out of the rusty metal frame. Stan reached down and took hold of the spring embedded into Ford’s leg, pulling it out. Ford screamed and unleashed a string of curses as he was pulled out of the death trap.
Mabel, taken aback by the swearing and sight of blood, stepped back with tears in her eyes.
“Grunkle Ford, are you okay?” Dipper asked.
“Do I look okay to you?” Ford shouted.
Dipper jumped and joined Mabel’s side, taking one of her hands in his.
Ford turned his focus to Stan. “I told you getting this thing was a bad idea, Stanley. Now look at what happened!”
“Don’t raise your voice at me,” Stan said. “It’s your fault for being on it in the first place. I bought it for the kids, not you.”
“You bought it at a garage sale for ten bucks! There’s rust all over the damn thing!”
Dipper quickly covered Mabel’s ears.
Stan glared at Ford. “Watch your mouth! We got kids literally right here!”
Ford winced and grabbed Stan’s shoulder. “Just…help me get inside.”
It was late in the afternoon when the morning’s chaos died down. Ford hadn’t eaten dinner and called in early for the night. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, his words didn’t ease Mabel’s mind.
Mabel gently knocked on Ford’s bedroom door, a small lump of navy blue yarn in her arms. It was something she knitted to apologize for the day being so terrible.
After a moment of silence, the door finally opened. Ford looked down at her and gave her a strange look. “Mabel? What’s wrong?”
She hesitantly held the gift out. “I…I knitted you some mittens.”
“Really?” He took the lump of yarn from her to look at what she made. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?”
“So…your skin doesn’t melt down to the bone if you spill other hot stuff on them,” she said.
He stared at her, confusion clear on his face, and muttered a quiet, “Ah.” He smiled and showed her the hand that had been burned that morning. It looked fine, or she thought it did. “You didn’t need to do that. It wasn't that bad of a burn.”
Mabel’s eyes lingered on his hand before they trailed down to the bandages wrapped tight around his injured leg, the pant leg rolled up to just below the knee. Her hands mindlessly picked at the bottom of her sweater, tears forming in her eyes. She was a horrible niece.
Ford looked to where she was staring and frowned, gently jostling the mittens. “You didn’t make these with that coffee burn in mind, did you?”
She wetly sniffed and shook her head, a fist lifting up to rub her eyes. “It’s my fault you got hurt. Be-because I didn’t want to get off that stupid trampoline!”
“Hey, we had a lot of fun, didn’t we?”
“I-I mean…yeah, but…you’re not mad at me?”
Ford awkwardly leaned down to pull her into a hug, rubbing her back as she began to cry harder. “Why would I be mad at you? That trampoline was a ticking time bomb. I’m glad it was me who got hurt instead of you or your brother.”
“You are?” Mabel asked, looking up at him.
He smiled. “Of course.”
In the morning, when Mabel and Dipper went outside to play, they discovered that the broken trampoline had disappeared.